


If ever your fortress caves

by Katseester



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spoilers, Tired Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katseester/pseuds/Katseester
Summary: Shiro wakes up, and Keith is there.Set post-season 7 episode 1.





	If ever your fortress caves

**Author's Note:**

> Adam whomst
> 
> Title is from Queens of the Stone Age's [Fortress](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNwNSU5NikU).

Shiro wakes to the familiar dark glow of the Black Lion's interior.

The surface beneath him is soft - not comfortable by any means but not the hard, unyielding metal of the Lion's floor, which means -

He's lying down in the small sleeping space tucked away behind the cockpit. He wonders how he got there, briefly, before he remembers the dreams and the darkness and Keith's voice pleading for him to stay.

He realizes he's not alone at the same time something shifts in his peripheral - a glance reveals it to be Krolia, sitting leaned up against the wall near the door. Keith is beside her, arms wrapped around his knees, pulled close to his chest. His helmet lies on the floor beside him; neither have noticed that Shiro is awake.

"You should sleep," Krolia urges softly, and Shiro averts his gaze back to the ceiling, not wishing to intrude upon this private moment between them. "You're exhausted. You haven't slept in days."

"Not until I'm sure he'll be okay," is Keith's response.

Krolia doesn't answer immediately. When she does, it's nothing to reassure or deny Keith; she must not be the kind of person to make empty promises. "We should at least take a look at your injuries."

"I'm fine," Keith bites out, and Krolia sighs.

"What would the point of this - vigil of yours be if you pass out before he can wake up? I know he's important to you, but - "

"I'm not leaving him," Keith says, and there's no room for argument in his tone.

Silence stretches on for what must be minutes before Krolia speaks again.

"I'll go get some antiseptic gel. We can, at the very least, make sure your face doesn't get infected while we're waiting."

Keith mumbles out a quiet thanks.

"And Keith - I'm happy for you. He's a good man."

"...I know."

"The way he looks at you - it reminds me of how your father used to look at me."

" _Mom_."

Krolia's laugh is rough in the small space. She moves to stand, the door hisses open and shut, and then they're alone. Shiro shifts again and it catches Keith's attention; in an instant he's across the room and kneeling by his side.

"Hey," Shiro says, voice rough.

"Hey," Keith says back, stroking Shiro's fringe back from his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Shiro answers truthfully.

Keith's hand has moved to cup Shiro's face and he leans into the touch, liking the warmth.

"Go back to sleep. I'll let everyone else know you're doing okay."

"Thanks," he mumbles. He closes his eyes and sinks back into sleep.

* * *

When he wakes again he's alone in the small space and the Black Lion is humming with energy; the team must have decided it was time to move again. He's amazed he slept through the takeoff.

He tries to sit up before remembering he's one arm less than before; the upset in balance sends him careening to the floor. Not a moment later the door slides open and Keith is there, kneeling beside him and helping him to right himself.

"I've got you," Keith breathes, hands tight on Shiro's shoulder and waist.

"Don't worry about me," Shiro says, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. He must have been asleep for ages but he can still feel that bone-deep exhaustion pulling at him. "Takes more than a tumble out of bed to get rid of me."

Keith huffs out a laugh. "How're you feeling?"

Awful. Terrible. Like he could sleep for one hundred years. Perfect, because he's awake and Keith is here beside him.

"I'm okay," he says instead of voicing any of this. "Better now that you're here."

Keith's smile is small and his eyes are soft. He's pulled Shiro closer in a half-embrace; Shiro wishes he could return it.

"I'll get you something to drink. Think you can manage some preserved food goo?"

Shiro makes a face. "Maybe just some water, for now."

* * *

They set down on a small planet that's abandoned but for a few old rebel outposts manned with skeleton crews. It's a planet shrouded in twilight, long shadows cast over the swirling, jagged landscape by the perpetually setting sun.

The inhabitants of the outpost are happy to share their supplies, scarce as they are. Anything for the paladins of Voltron, they say, handing over packages of non-perishables to the team.

Shiro is sitting in the shadow of the Black Lion, legs crossed, watching his friends catalogue their newly-gained items. The ground beneath him is vibrantly green and pliable beneath him, reminiscent of Earth's springy moss. One of the outpost's inhabitants, Sarkeet he had said his name was, has begun to show Allura a map to the nearby river, because they're all filthy. Shiro's eyes drift over to Keith. Keith -

_"Keith - "_

Shiro groans, resting his forehead in the palm of his hand. The foreign memories aren't - bad, exactly, but with them comes the phantom of what the other Shiro had felt. This memory, this Shiro's last moments of consciousness, are a cacophonic amalgam of fear and confusion and pain, of looking up to see Keith standing over him, blade in each hand. Keith - beautiful, wrecked, wretched Keith, scar a hot red gouge against his pale skin - was the last thing he saw before the explosion rendered everything dark.

He feels rather than hears the presence of another beside him, lowering themselves to the ground to sit.

"You okay?" Keith asks. Shiro turns his head to look at him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," he says, and the look Keith gives him lets him know he doesn't believe that for a second. "It's just - I'm just trying to process everything, I guess."

"Don't overdo it," Keith says, instead of pushing, and on a rush of impulse Shiro reaches over and covers his hand where it rests on the ground.

"I won't." He tries for reassuring, settles somewhere along this side of exhausted. Keith is looking at him, head tilted, and the fall of his hair over his forehead and cheeks frames his face attractively. Shiro's staring; he knows it, and Keith knows it, but he's too tired to pretend otherwise.

The others have left them alone, or maybe they've just left. Probably went to wash the grime off. Shiro and Keith are alone with the Lions and the sun is settled just above the treeline.

"When you said that you love me," he begins, "what did you mean?"

Keith tilts his face away; Shiro can see his scar, shiny, new, and it draws his attention away from Keith's eyes for only a moment. There's an ugly bruise blooming along the underside of his chin where Shiro - the other Shiro - hit him with enough force to knock his helmet off. He doesn't know how he didn't break Keith's jaw.

"I meant," Keith says, and then pulls in a shaking breath, "that I - that you - you're important to me. I don't want to lose you again."

It's not an answer - not a proper one, at least. Keith, headstrong and persistent, has always been painfully shy whenever it comes to something as personal as his own feelings. But what he can't say in words he conveys through the way his hand tightens around Shiro's, the way his cheeks have darkened to an endearing shade of pink.

"Hey," Shiro says, angling his head to meet Keith's gaze again. Keith's eyes flick to his, and Shiro's trapped. He has never seen eyes more beautiful; he doesn't ever want to look away.

Keith's other hand has found its way to the nape of Shiro's neck, pulling him gently forward until their noses bump together, close enough to share breath. Closing his eyes, Shiro wishes desperately for this moment to stretch on forever. Just this, just his forehead resting against Keith's, just his fingers laced together with Keith's, just his breath mingling with Keith's. Intimate, quiet, theirs.

It doesn't last forever. Keither shifts forward, presses his mouth to Shiro's. Softly, like he's not sure Shiro won't reel back from his touch. As if he ever would. His fingers curl over Shiro's skin at his nape, sending sparks down his spine, electric.

Too soon Keith pulls away, lets his lips catch Shiro's one last time before breaking contact.

"That's what I meant," Keith murmurs, and if anyone else were to say it it would sound so terribly cheesy, but Keith is so steadfast and sincere that Shiro's heart swells with fondness instead. He thinks, not for the first time, how incredibly lucky he is to have this man in his life. "You're smiling."

"I'm happy," Shiro says, and is rewarded with that beautiful pink flush again. "I love you, too." And the flush spreads all the way to the tips of Keith's ears before he hides his face in Shiro's shoulder, embarrassed.

It's nice, Shiro thinks, to be this close to Keith. It's nice to allow himself to relax, if only for a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent fluff with no point I'm so sorry


End file.
